


hearts are sad and eyes are tired

by grassandcitrus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Possibly Unrequited Love, it's up for interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 09:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8618176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassandcitrus/pseuds/grassandcitrus
Summary: Sombra hadn't meant to get into it right then. She'd never meant to get into it. But it happened, and now it's a bit too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a quick conversation I jotted down in a note on my phone, but then they kept talking. The romance became a little more implied and one-sided and the tone one of a character study, but y'know. It happens. The title is from "Staring at the Stars" by Passenger.

“You’re staring.”

Sombra felt herself jolted out of her reverie; she _had_ been staring, but like hell did she think Amélie would call her out on it or even _notice_. Her eyes were closed, after all, resting on the other side of the drop ship. She obviously wasn’t sleeping - presumably she’d be loath to sleep with Sombra near her, when they weren’t even in a safe location - but she might as well have been.

“And how would you know, with your eyes closed?” Sombra retorted childishly, not in an actual effort to deny that she’d been staring. She couldn’t care less that she’d been caught.

Amélie laughed, a small yet somehow threatening thing. “Haven't I said? ‘You can't hide from my sight’,” she countered, not even deigning to open her eyes.

Sombra rolled her eyes, leaning away from her partner and pointedly looking away. “You’re not wearing your visor.”

“I can feel you thinking. You’re not subtle,” Amélie told her, still not opening her eyes, not even looking at Sombra.

“And you’re full of yourself,” Sombra responded. Amélie laughed again.

“Maybe I am,” she said, opening her eyes and leveling Sombra with the full force of her gaze. Sombra found herself wishing she hadn’t; Amélie’s eyes showed that she understood much more than she let on, and Sombra wasn’t used to sharing that with others. Luckily, this time Amélie seemed to take her at face value.

Sombra sighed exaggeratedly. “You,” she said, making eye contact, “are horrible to work with.”

“I suppose I'm lucky I feel nothing, or you would be a nuisance yourself,” Amélie said off handedly. It frustrated Sombra, how removed she was from everything. She wanted some proof that Amélie was actually Amélie, but more and more it was becoming hard to find that.

“ _That_ ,” Sombra said, “is exactly the problem.”

Amélie seemed a bit stricken by this information - stricken in a very her sort of way. As in, hardly a response at all, the asshole. Regardless, she stared.

“Now you’re staring,” Sombra said, “Stop trying to figure me out. It’s not worth it to you.”

Amélie hummed under her breath, regarding Sombra differently now. Sombra felt like she’d let on more than she should under Amélie’s scrutinizing gaze. “I beg to differ,” she said with a smirk.

Sombra didn’t care to be here anymore. “Talon has ruined you,” she said, almost to the air around her and not to the other living being with her, “and now I suppose they’re ruining me.” Sombra laughed to herself, and at the expression Amélie was likely making, should Sombra have been looking at her. “The world continues spinning,” she mused.

“You think too much,” Amélie told her, with a point to her words. Sombra felt as if she might have struck a nerve somewhere deep down inside.

“And you, too little,” Sombra responded quickly.

“I think just as much as I need,” Amélie countered, acid in her voice.

“I repeat: you’re impossible,” Sombra responded. She was met with silence.

The overwhelming silence continued for a moment, for so long that Sombra thought that she had finally pissed Amélie off so much that she’d decided this conversation was truly unworthy of her time. She wondered what to make of that.

Just as Sombra began to settle into yet another long, silent ride, Amélie spoke. “I’ll never be what you want me to be, _chérie_ ,” Amélie said; Sombra could feel the force of her gaze on her yet again. “It will do you well to realize that.”

“I don’t want to change you,” Sombra told her, “I’m not trying to fix you. You fix computers, not people.”

“What if someone is broken?” Amélie countered. Sombra was caught off guard at her seemingly playing along. For surely, that’s what she was doing right now.

“I don’t know, _querida_. I know computers, not people,” Sombra responded in kind.

Amélie laughed bitterly and said, “You’re lying.”

“Maybe to you, but not to myself. I know what I'm capable of, what I want and what I can do about it. And what I can’t” Sombra responded softly. She finally met Amélie’s eyes. Maybe she’d understand what she was saying, maybe she wouldn’t. Sombra was fucked either way, so what should she care.

Amélie frowned deeply at her. “And what can’t you do?” she asked, sounding like she was attempting to puzzle her out right here and now.

Sombra laughed; it wasn’t cheerful in the slightest. In fact, the laugh itself portrayed almost better than her words what she couldn’t do. This was too real, too much. Sombra hadn’t intended to get this into it - into this conversation, into this job, into _Amélie_. She looked her in the eyes and hoped to convey what she didn’t intend to say with her words. It was the most she could do.

“We all need our secrets, don’t we, Amélie?”


End file.
